


His Favorite

by PitaVegeta1



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitaVegeta1/pseuds/PitaVegeta1
Summary: Short and Sweet what they love about each other.
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 174





	1. Tharn

**Author's Note:**

> Listening to My Favorite Thing by Kem ft. Ron Isley
> 
> Work of fiction, characters are not mine.

Tharn always told Type what he loved about him, mostly the intangible things that made Type who he was. His boyfriend would also call out the physical things, like his eyes, cheeks and other extremities; however, if Type had to think about what he loved about Tharn the list was ever-growing. The other man was a true gentleman, humble and sweet, Type understood why Techno called the man an angel and gapped at their relationship considering Type's own temperament. 

It was the tangible things that Type was considering at this moment; lips that have spoken words of love and devotion to him. The other man's smile could light up a building, the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled. It was those eyes that looked right through Type, stripping bare all things the southern boy wished to hide and conveying everything Tharn expressed verbally and physically. His dark hair highlighted in burgundy hues appearing almost chocolate in the right light, miraculously soft to the touch. 

Ultimately his hands were Type's favorite, powerful yet cautious, heated and knowledgeable; hands that steered Type to distraction like now. Type let his gaze wander from the tv, his attention should be on the four-page paper that was due in two days, but he was furthermore distracted by the click-clack of buttons at his side. Tharn was engrossed in his own homework, laptop perched on his thighs, notebook balanced on the arm of the couch. Type watched as large hands move over the black keys, piano fingers dancing and striking in quick succession. 

Type could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as vivid thoughts of those hands played in his mind. Hands that have possessed him, dominated him and brought forth feelings and sounds Type himself did not know to exist. The fingers paused, relaxed hovering over the keyboard.

"Type?" Tharn questioned, looking at him curiously, the light from the tv played across the other man's cheekbones, dark eyes searching Type's own. Huffing Type turned back to his own laptop, embarrassment now warming his face, he ignores the smirk on his boyfriend's lips that he could glimpse from the corner of his eye. 

\--------------------

The apartment was motionless in the darkness as Type woke, his dreams though no longer plagued by the past still suffered from the zombie movie he watched before going to bed. He shifted beneath the weight encircling his waist trapping the warmth between him and Tharn under the blanket. He smoothed his cheek against the hot bar of flesh under his head, his own hand almost dainty in comparison held Tharn's, fingers following the path of veins etching Tharn's fingers to his wrist and beyond. 

Type recalled the first time he had truly seen Tharn's hands or at least paid attention to them, back in the dorms when Type himself was still spiteful of what Tharn represented. He remembered the flash of silver that had caught his attention, Tharn's thumb ring glinting in the light streaming from the windows as the other man straightened something on his desk. It was the play of shadows that fooled Type into thinking the other man's hands were as soft-looking as his, boy had he been wrong. A stray thought, that if Tharn had ever retaliated when Type himself had struck the other rouse from the pessimistic part of his brain; one he was thankful had never happened.

Tightening around Type's own fingers pulled him from his reflections, the hand at his waist clenching his shirt before relaxing and rubbing his belly. Those strong fingers laced between his own warm and safe, "You ok?" the voice was sleep deep, pushing at the hairs on the back of Type's neck and rolling down his vertebrae. Type pushed himself closer to the man behind him, grasping Tharn's hand tight, pressing his lips to the warm skin.

"Yes, I'm fine," he murmured. 

"Told you not to watch that movie." Tharn chuckled then hissed as Type's teeth nipped at his thumb. The two cuddled closer, both relaxing in the darkness swaddling them


	2. Type

If Tharn had to name one thing he loved about Type he couldn't, there was just too much about the other man that Tharn adored. From that little wrinkle, he gets when he's annoyed to his perk bottom, down to his gorgeous feet. Tharn cherished everything about Type and he knew the was cliche but it was true. 

The physical things aren't what gravitated Tharn to Type's orbit, but rather that combative personality was like honey to him. Tharn was used to boyfriends that were sweet and soft, giving into his dominate nature bellies up. Not saying Type couldn't be that way Tharn just had to work for it and that's what he enjoyed the work, cause the reward was better than anything.

Tharn could name a few embodiments of Type's that turned his head. number one his height; no other boyfriend except P'San had been taller than him, Tar was the shortest. Type stood almost an inch taller than Tharn something most people didn't notice but Tharn did and he worshiped it. That arch in Type's spine, the one he let fingers or lips caress before proceeding downwards. Tharn reversed his thoughts panning upwards before he went somewhere he couldn't come back from.

Looking over at his boyfriend, who was having an aminated conversation with Techno and their other friends while they relaxed in Jeep's bar. Tharn began to zero in on his favorite thing about Type at least physically, the supple swell of his cheeks more pronounced when he smiled or puffed them in irritation centered blushing cupid bow lips. Soft and sweet a contradiction to the harsh expressions that flowed through them. Lips that insulted him with the harshest slurs, lips that after the first kiss Tharn was addicted to.

Said lips turned to Tharn smiling and glistening from beer in the bar lights, enticing Tharn to do something that would surely get him smacked. Tharn shrugged and proceeded to lean closer, there was that wrinkle thick brows drawing down before jumping up in surprise as Tharn's lips met Type's. The kiss only lasted a second as their friends gave whistles and whoops. Type slapped his hand into Tharn's chest stuttering already paused breath and pulling back curses flying from now rosy lips. Tharn continued to stare dopely, " He's drunk." Type announced eyeing his boyfriend over his own bottle. 

Tharn shook his head it took more than a couple of beers to get him drunk, leaning closer with Type's gaze suspicious; Tharn whispered his intentions glimpsing the blush rising over Type's face; guess his mind did go there. It only took a minute to depart from their friends who gave knowing looks as they left the bar to Tharn's car. 

\--------------------------------------------

It took some work to get the door to the apartment open, with Type wrapped around Tharn; thighs hiked high above Tharn's waist, bottom balance on one arm while Tharn groped for the keys and Type's lips. Finally, the door gave way, they barely made it to the couch tumbling down onto the white cushions. Tharn trailed kisses to Type's neck nibbling and sucking; fingers slipping beneath the polo Type wore to press into that arch. 

Type's own hands entangled into Tharn's hair whimpering as his lips were claimed again. Thighs clenched tighter, breath labored, hands trailing down Tharn's back; all was halted as Tharn's phone rang. The growl startled Type as he hadn't been the one to make it. Tharn yanked the phone from his back pocket looking at the caller id, his brother's name flashing across the screen. He would ignore it but the call could be important; kissing Type in apology for the interruption he lifted away from his boyfriend. 

Type settled into the cushions willing his blood back up, he could hear Thorn's questioning voice, nothing like a family cock block.


End file.
